


Chains

by Sophia_Bee



Series: Game of Thrones [8]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hate Sex, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 05:33:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19457395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophia_Bee/pseuds/Sophia_Bee
Summary: After Riverrun on their way to King’s Landing, Jaime escapes Brienne.





	Chains

**Author's Note:**

  * For [error404](https://archiveofourown.org/users/error404/gifts).



> PWP hate!sex, one shot, NOT BETA’D. My beta is asleep.

Brienne blames it on the sunshine. 

The sun is a bright, a shining orb high in a sky so blue it reminds her of home. A gentle breeze blows, rustling the leaves of the trees and the air smells of dirt and blooming things, and for the first time in a long time, not of death. 

She blames the sun for making the day bright and green, taking Brienne back to a more peaceful time. Her mind wanders, back to the rolling meadows of Tarth, to days spent exploring the island on horseback, for away from the Evenfall Hall and all the failure it represented, or to training in the yard, sun beating down, sweat rolling down her brow. 

She blames it on her memories, her melancholy, her homesickness, her being in a strange, horrible land that seems to be full of endless horror. She blames it on the sun that tricks her mind into thinking that this day is different than any other, deceiving her into letting down her guard. 

He is weak. She can see it, although he tries to hide it behind quips and japes. He cannot cut her with his sword, like he would prefer. He is not armed, feeble, and his hands are chained. Instead he cuts her with his words, each one carefully crueler than the last. With every step she hates him more, loathes his casual cruelty, this man who broke his vow and killed his king, who took for granted everything she had ever longed for. 

He is not the Kingslayer she’s heard tales of, handsome and golden. His face is lined, eyes haunted, and he is thin, defeated. Yet is is as casually callous as she had ever imagined, as privileged as she would expect a Lannister to be. 

It is this weakness in him, and the sun, and the beauty of the day, that causes her to misjudge him. She should have conceived that he would try to escape. She never anticipated what would happen when he did.

She’d thought him safety hobbled. Later she would realize the chains weren’t fastened well. So when they stop and he tells her he needed to make water, Brienne looks away for a moment, distracted by the light through the leaves, or perhaps the trill of a bird. This is when he runs. 

Brienne is surprised, but only briefly. The Kingslayer hurls away from her and it takes barely a moment for Brienne to sprint after him. She is a fighter after all, her instincts well honed, her reflexes lightening quick. Plus, Jaime Lannister is crashing through the brush, as loud as any boar hunting party. He isn’t hard to follow. 

He isn’t hard to catch. 

He is dashing down the bank of a stream when she catches up to him. Brienne yells, a loud bellow of fury, as she tackles the Kingslayer, diving at him, her arms wrapping around his legs, and he topples to the ground at the impact of the Maid of Tarth, his chained hands unable to break his fall. Quick as lightning she scrambles up him, pinning him to the ground as he bucks and twists beneath her. 

“You will not…” Brienne grunts through clenched teeth, her voice deep with fury. She stares down at Jaime Lannister’s bared teeth and flashing green eyes just before he heaves himself upwards, surprisingly strong, and suddenly they are rolling over and over further down the bank, and Brienne can taste dirt in her mouth. Finally they stop, mere feet from the edge of a thin trickle of water that passes for a stream, Brienne atop the Kingslayer, straddling him, her chest pressing against his, her arms pinning his to the ground above his head. They are both panting hard and his breath is hot against her face. 

“You will not.” Brienne repeats forcefully, and all the anger she has felt since leaving Riverrun surges forward. 

_You will not insult me._

_You will not disrespect me, your vow, your knighthood._

_You will not escape._

_You will not…._

Brienne stills. She stares down at the Kingslayer who stares back up at her, grinning, as if despite the fact that she has pinned him down, he has won. 

“Something wrong, wench?” Jaime Lannister sneers up at her. 

_He’s hard._

A hot blush climbs up Brienne’s cheeks as she straddles the Kingslayer. Her first instinct is to leap up, to put some space between them, to give into the embarrassment that floods through her at the feeling of his arousal. The second thought that runs through her mind is that her retreat is exactly what Jaime wants. The moment she moves, he will escape once again. She holds still. Jaime’s sneer turns into a triumphant grin as he grinds his hips up into her. Brienne feels her body respond on its own accord and suddenly her rage is mixed with her own arousal. 

_Gods._

Brienne bites her bottom lip as a warm, melting feeling courses through her cunt, which is now twitching and aching. Jaime is bucking up against her again, and again, seeking her, and Brienne’s mind is muddled with both anger and desire. Her hands tighten around his wrists, and she hears herself moan. 

The sound outrages her. His face is still inches from her and wants to hiss insults into it: Kingslayer; Oathbreaker. Instead she kisses him. 

It not a kiss for the songs. 

Their mouths crash together, all teeth and spit, tongues warring. There is nothing sweet about it, each struggling to dominate the other, pulling back for breath, then coming together again and again, and Brienne feels as if she might explode. Finally they break apart long enough for him to spit ‘wench’ up at her and for her to respond ‘Kingslayer’ with equal disdain, and it’s at that moment their eyes lock and she knows they will fuck. 

All thoughts of escape slip away as she releases his hands. They both tear at their laces, him ungainly because of the chains. They pull their britches down with frantic, clumsy fingers, then they both fling them aside with haste, not caring where they land. Before Brienne can even think about what any of this means, or what is about to happen, Jaime is kissing her again, pulling her over until her bare bottom is lying against the cover of decaying leaves and loam, a rock digging into her ass, a canopy of green is above her. Jaime Lannister is lying on top of her and Brienne burns in a way entirely foreign to her, aching for release.

This is not how she’d imagined losing her maidenhead, but she’s not sure if she’d ever imagined it at all, or if it mattered, because Jaime’s fingers are somehow slipping across her clit and she is making a strange deep sound in her throat, pushing into his touch, wanting more. Nothing matters except how good this feels. 

When he spreads her legs and settles between them, Brienne lifts her hips and practically begs him to slide inside her. When he finally does, it is a strange, not totally unpleasant sensation, and she holds still, wondering at the oddness of this moment. Then he moves and she gasps, pulling up her knees and cursing him as he starts to thrust into her. 

He spills inside her, Brienne squeezes her eyes shut and prays to the Seven that nothing quickens in her womb, or that they will soon find a village where she can get some moon tea. She is vexed that she still aches, when Jaime grabs her shoulders and pulls her into his lap, her knees on either side of him. His hands slip between her legs, fingers finding that nub, and it’s not long before Brienne is shuddering against him, her mouth open against the roughspun fabric of his tunic. When she has stopped trembling but is still leaning against him, boneless and wrung out, she feels the shake if his laugh and hears its deep rumble.

“I win, wench,” the Kingslayer chuckles, “and all with my hands in chains.”

~fin~

**Author's Note:**

> I want to seriously thank **error404** for the inspiration to write this. It is yours. It will always be yours. I hope you find many more fics that have Jaime and Brienne starting their physical relationship on their way to King's Landing. In my personal headcanon they now spend a lot of time trying to piss each other off. Because, hate!sex. XD 
> 
> xoxo SB


End file.
